


Whoa

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 22:11:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17434442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prompto finds out “oh sh*t he’s hot.”





	Whoa

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Prompto has never really seen Ignis as a sexual being until on their journey when they’re at a hotel, and he sees Ignis step out of the shower with a towel around his waist and sees him without glasses, hair down, and rocking surprisingly nice abs, and Prompto’s mind-mouth filter disappears, and he blurts out how sexy he is. Unlike Noctis and Gladio, he’s only seen “put together Iggy,” so he’s kind of in shock and starts seeing him in a new light” prompt on [the FFXV Kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5690.html?thread=11432762#cmt11432762).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV, Cup Noodles, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Shopping in Lestallum is both the best and hardest it’s been since leaving Insomnia—they have _almost_ everything, but it’s spread out in several different side streets and a myriad of buildings that all look more or less the same. By the time Noctis and Prompto are finished, reaching the hotel again with two plastic bags each, they’ve gotten nearly everything they were supposed to—twenty-seven out of the thirty ingredients and supplies Ignis wrote down for them. They’re also laden with the weight of more cup noodles than they probably need, especially given that they’re both positive Gladiolus will come back with even more, but Prompto figured better safe than sorry. It’s the first time they’ve been able to grab the delicious treat on their road trip, and neither knows if it’ll be the last. Prompto never thought he’d have to know the geographical distribution of Cup Noodles.

He’s learning a whole lot on their journey. First and foremost: just how much Noctis _sleeps_. Even though he spent half of yesterday passed out in the Regalia, as soon as they’re back in their suite, Noctis is bee-lining right for the bed. Prompto drops his bags on the floor and does a quick once over of the room—he’ll need to tell Ignis and Gladiolus to find the three things they missed. But the other two must not be back yet; the room doesn’t show any signs of use. Granted, Ignis rarely leaves a mess behind to track him by, but Gladiolus, at least, would have dishes or an open book.

In this case, it’s just as well. With Noctis already snuggling under the sheets, Prompto’s left free reign of the bedroom and, more importantly, the washroom. He knows he’s in desperate need of a shower, though the four of them have been politely not telling each other off for their mutual stench. He knows Ignis will have definitely showered by now. Hopefully Gladiolus and Noctis will too before they set out again. That should cover them for another few days, until they find a stray river somewhere and desperately try to scrape off another adventure’s worth of sweat and grime. 

Grabbing his only extra pair of clothes—baggy gray pants and a red tank—Prompto heads over to the washroom. He twists the handle, marches in, starting up a hummed rendition of the famous chocobo tune. Then he stops as suddenly as if he’d walked right into a brick wall. 

Gladiolus might be out, but Ignis is definitely back. Ignis is in the middle of the washroom, one hand on the counter, the other in his hair, frozen mid finger-comb. He looks away from the mirror to blink at Prompto, whose mouth might’ve fallen open.

Ignis is _naked_. Or almost naked. There’s a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist, _low_ down his waist, clinging to the sharp juts of his hipbones and dipping down beneath his stomach, revealing a sparse trail of neatly trimmed brown hair. The area is flat, hard, and still slightly damp. It’s obvious that he’s just gotten out of the shower. And beneath the towel, he’s _naked_. And Prompto’s staring at his crotch.

Slowly but surely, Prompto forces his gaze up. It climbs the washboard abs that line Ignis’ toned torso, all the way up to the broad expanse of his pectorals, faltering along the pink-brown nipples that have somewhat hardened in the cool open air. Prompto might be salivating. He wrenches his head higher. Ignis’ face is drawn in innocent surprise, something Prompto’s never seen on him before. Especially without glasses. Ignis’ green eyes are wide and clear. His ash-brown hair has fallen down across his forehead, slick but soft in the absence of any gel, and the illusion of bangs takes a few years off him. He suddenly looks so _human_ , which is ridiculous, because he’s always been that, it’s just that Prompto’s never seen him so... _informal._

Prompto’s never seen him without glasses. Prompto’s never seen him shirtless. And Prompto’s certainly never seen his bare legs, standing square in the middle of a shared bathroom, in the perfect picture of domestic eye candy.

Prompto’s brain is broken. He means to say ‘sorry’ for intruding, but instead blurts, “Fuck, you’re _hot_.”

Ignis blinks. Prompto’s too busy being embarrassed over his internal explosion of very inappropriate feelings to be embarrassed over what he just said. He still means to say sorry but is floundering, because he’s made the mistake of looking down at Ignis’ chest again, and dear Astrals, the man’s built like a _god_. 

It would probably help if Ignis acted his usual stern self and scolded Prompto out of the washroom, like the high-class advisor he’s always seemed to Prompto. Instead, his expression softens, and he tells Prompto kindly, “Thank you.”

Prompto mumbles something like, “Uh-huh.” He’s currently trying to figure out if Ignis has always been this sexy and Prompto’s just been oblivious, or if their time together has changed Ignis into a new, more multi-faceted cup of ‘yes please.’

“Prompto.”

Prompto’s neck snaps up again. He’s vaguely aware of his own reflection in the steamed-up mirror, completely red from ear to ear. Ignis informs him, “I need a few more minutes to finish up. You can have the washroom then.”

Prompto nods blankly. Ignis waits patiently. Somewhere along the line, Prompto’s body kicks into autopilot, and he figures out how to back out of the washroom, awkwardly not turning around, until Ignis has shut the door on him. Then he stands there on the other side, still reeling.

He feels like he’s having one of those cliché ‘gay awakening’s from the movies. He’s sitting down next to Noctis before he knows it, hurriedly shaking his best friend’s shoulder. Noctis peers blearily up at him, looking only halfway conscious.

Prompto doesn’t care and mutters furiously anyway, “Noct, Iggy’s _super hot!_ ”

Noctis yawns, grumbles, “I know,” and rolls over, taking a huge chunk of blanket with him. Prompto’s left stewing alone.

He’s still stewing when Ignis emerges about four minutes later, as pristinely dressed as ever, his peach skin no longer damp and his sleek hair coiffed above his forehead. His glasses are back on, and somehow, he looks just as irresistible as he did before, just in a different way. Prompto sees him in a whole new light now and can’t seem to undo that.

“Is Gladio back yet?” Ignis asks, like he hasn’t just flipped Prompto’s whole world around by being a walking wet dream.

When Prompto doesn’t answer, Noctis grunts against his pillow, “No idea.”

Ignis starts towards the door. “I’d best go look for him, then. We need to devise tomorrow’s plan.”

Prompto blurts, “Can I come?” 

Ignis pauses, hand on the doorknob. Prompto adds dazedly, “We could... get coffee?” Not like a date or anything. Maybe like a date. He doesn’t know. He just wants to stare at Ignis more. And maybe take a few photos, because apparently Prompto’s been traveling with the ideal model all along. 

Despite how stupid Prompto’s probably acting, an indulgent smile spreads across Ignis’ handsome face. He answers in his suave accent, “I’d be delighted.”

So Prompto jumps to his feet and follows.


End file.
